to take courage and enter the room. He understood that this was unreal, simply impossible. How could a bedroom in a house where he had never once repeated his own bedroom. He went to the window expecting to see the familiar backyard of their house. Instead, he saw what he was supposed to do - a wrought fence and a street.

The boy turned away from the window and stepped toward the table, glancing at the book. No inscriptions, no name, nothing. He touched the binding with his fingers. The skin was porous and dense to the touch. Jason snapped open the original yellow metal lock, fastening the flyleaf and the book opened.

Jason's eyes went wide, his pupils widened, his jaw slowly dropped when he realized what he was seeing.

The first page depicted Heather Sovert, in a very unusual form, strikingly different from the photos he had looked at earlier. It took him a few minutes to realize that the picture was real, and not the fruit of his sick fantasy. It was a very clear, high-quality picture of his secret love, and she was completely naked on it.

More than naked. A sweltering wave swept through Jason's stomach, hitting him in the head, and he felt his face fill with paint of shame. Heather stood in a provocative pose, with a barely noticeable sweet smile on her beautiful face. Her gracefully curved hips sloped in one direction, the perineum was clearly visible under the neatly trimmed fiery-red strip of pubic hair. She leaned forward a little, forcing her charming breasts to sag, her nipples stood out with bright spots standing upright, obviously agitated. She playfully touched one of them with the tips of her small, elegant fingers.

At first, Jason thought that this was someone just very similar to Heather. But then ... These were undoubtedly her wet green eyes, the oval of her face, and a wave of thick red hair. It certainly was she in all the shamelessness of nudity.

Jason slammed the book shut, as if frightened.

- Where did you get it? - He demanded, crying into the void. Where from ?!

Silence in response ...

The guy looked down and could not resist. Opened the book. Shaking fingers turned the page. Immediately, two photographs of Heather made something squeeze in my stomach. Breath stuck somewhere in the throat and the boy began to catch the air with his mouth wide open. Now she was lying on the bed, shamelessly throwing her long legs into a bulging crotch. On the second, she put her hands between her legs and stroked the shiny pinkish folds of the labia, playing with them.

Jason swallowed hard. His penis instantly tensed, painfully resting on tight tight fabric. With cheeks flaming with shame, the boy pulled off his jeans at the waist, helping the penis to take a position in which he did not threaten to break in half. An incredibly hot barrel pressed against his pubis and pulsed, shuddering, splashing deafeningly sweet splashes of pleasure in his groin and stomach. The soft fluff of pubic hair was leaking, something sticky unpleasantly cold.

“He would never do that!” He whispered, unable to stop turning over page by page.

At each new Heather became more courageous and untied. She shamelessly masturbated, parting her labia showing a scarlet incision, with two petals and a pink seal, immersed her shiny water fingers in the vagina, bending shamelessly towards the camera, smiling frankly and shamelessly.

Jason wanted Heather, in fact, he wanted to, as a schoolboy during puberty can dream of a girl. He understood that it was impossible, she was inaccessible to him and therefore he lived only with fantasies, masturbating on candid photos taken from the Internet very similar to his dream of women. But none of them was in any comparison with the real Heather. What he considered now was just a bomb.

Choking with emotion, he slammed the book and pressed it to his chest.

- Can I pick it up? - He asked, a rhetorical question, realizing that he would never let go of such a treasure.

He received an answer, but not at all what he expected ...

...NOT! - A whisper pouring into my ears was burning with cold.

He simply suffocated from injustice and indignation.

“But what's the point of showing me this if I can't ...!”

...Enjoy them here.

- Enjoy them ... how?

Jason turned away from the table, still holding the book to his chest, like the most precious treasure. His gaze fell on his own bed and his eyes widened again.

“You don't want to say ... that I am ... right here ..." he muttered again, blushing again. I-I-I can't ...!

...You won't have to.

- I do not understand...

...Do not worry. Take it easy. Trust me. - the voice suddenly became very soft and fascinating.

He swallowed again and hesitantly took a step towards the bed, wrinkling and groaning when the member rested against his trousers again, and pain shot through him. He was more excited than ever. I could not believe that this was due to the simple photographs of Heather. In the depths of his soul, he understood that the photos could not be real, these are definitely fakes, Heather simply could not pose to anyone in this way.

But lust seething in the stomach, regardless of whether this is Heather or not. Sweetness was torn out, bringing consciousness to a frenzy, causing an overwhelming desire to be discharged. He stood in indecision looking at the bed, trying to get rid of obsessive images from the pages of the book pressed to his chest. An erection either did not want to subside.

The boy took another hesitant step. Put the book on the bed. He stopped ... and after a short pause, he began to unbutton his trouser belt.

He could not get rid of the feeling of interference in his own consciousness. What made his body flush from the inside as soon as he pulled his trousers up to his hips. Buttocks began to shrink by themselves. The member huddled in his underpants, as if alive, a huge wet spot spread out on the fabric. His cheeks were still burning with shame, from the realization that someone was watching him at that moment and at the same time realizing that this was impossible.

He yanked off the pants up to his knees, frantically jerked his legs, getting rid of his pants. A member of the hard to beat on the lower abdomen, smearing it sticky clear juice. He darkened, his head was incredibly swollen and seemed to breathe, swelling like the cheeks of a toad. He glanced at himself, ashamed of his own erection, believing that he now looked ridiculous. His cheeks were sore again. Jason pulled the T-shirt over his head, remaining completely naked. The boy’s naked body was visibly trembling in a fever.

The sensation of the presence of others increased, the air around him thickened and seemed to crackle from invisible electrical discharges. Jason climbed onto the bed with his knees. He barely restrained himself, feeling a burning desire to squeeze a member with his hand. At the same time, he was extremely nervous and knew that usually at the same time the penis instantly fell off and shriveled, but now this did not happen. Although the situation was even less favorable. In addition to fear and excitement, he knew that he was being watched. Despite the itching in his groin and scrotum, he thought that he would never be able to end in such conditions.

The boy lay on his back, slipping a pillow under his head, and took the book in his hands. His heart began to pound again, when he squeezed a thick cover with his fingers and opened the page. His glazed eyes stuck to Heather's naked, seductive in his shamelessness, he hastily turned over several pages to get to the photos where the girl masturbated. Jason's breathing became short and frequent, as if someone invisible was punching him in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. And then he groaned, feeling the soft fingers that began to stroke the swollen cock.

Jason turned a few more pages. He gasped, involuntarily arching on his bed, raising his pelvis. The fingers curled around the trunk of the penis, firmly squeezed, often squeezing a hot, pulsating body and quickly moved along the entire length.He felt his palm dropping down to the root and taking off at a very fast pace, ... Read more →